


The Flow

by icedteainthebag



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella Gibson calculated every move in her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flow

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to aloysiavirgata for the motorcycle snippet and to leiascully for the inspiring thoughts. Also, thanks to somekindofseizure and justholdinghandsok for the encouragement.

-

_“We all have physical and emotional needs that can only be met by interaction with another person. The trick is to ask someone appropriate to meet them.”_

-

Stella Gibson calculated every move in her life. Every day, every hour every day, every hour into 15 minutes. Sleep when allowed was within a finite space. The only time her math was off, only the most brilliant fuck ups she had experienced, had to do with sex. She acknowledged that she needed to allow herself room for spontaneity but when it came to these experiences, she always ended up in the shitter.

Jim and James and that young man with his dark curls and inquisitive eyes in her bed. This boy, young man, shot dead the day after he gave himself to her. Was he profiling her, detailing her motivations in a casefile in his head? Had he read her dark journal and seen what Spector had seen? 

A tragic pattern was evolving--no, no. She refused to make connections that made no logical sense. It was a true comedy of errors and she was no fan of comedies. 

And then, whatever this was with Reed.

There was a lot of power in her suggestion, invitation in her gaze when she allowed it. She’s known from an early age that sex was unfortunately her greatest power, beyond intellect, beyond the heavy weight of paper her numerous degrees were printed on. No matter what laurels she had to lean on, her sex was there--between her thighs, under her blouse, clinging to the soft pink of her lips when all she wanted to do was just fucking work. The sex of men was omnipresent as well but somehow they managed quite nicely for themselves to keep their public and private spaces very separate. They had agency over the interjection of their sexuality into the conversation. Hers happened automatically.

She didn't hate her sex. She loved it and embraced it with her entire being. People were not used to that. People were intimidated by that. She used to be. 

 

Men had been men to her. She’d never been obsessed with finding the perfect one for her, merely the perfect one for her situation. Usually a way to control that live wire under her skin. 

But her proposal to Reed at the hotel bar was more. Reed’s inquisition into the scratches on Olson’s back had narked her at first and she’d become evasive. But Reed’s apology and admittance that the inquisition was not simply in the name of professional research had calmed her, relieved her, but inspired her to act on that twinge of electricity that she felt running between their fingers when they played with each other’s hands from time to time, nothing but play.

It still felt necessary to whisper in the light din surrounding their table, “Stay with me.” A statement, not a question. She was terribly bored with asking questions by that time of night.

Her cool visage upon receipt of this statement gave away nothing. Only the flicker of her eyes to the exit door demonstrated a brief hesitancy.

Reed had said nothing as their fingers slipped between each other, a light and playful game on the way to the lift. It was only when they stood facing the doors and the silent hum of energy between them rose that Reed’s second thoughts contaminated the moment. Croydon conservatism was convenient for Reed, delivered half-jokingly as an excuse to slip away that night at the hotel. Stella knew Reed’s opinion on Croydon--a bastion of blinkered hypocrites, really, that Reed had disavowed years ago as part of her feminist-intellectual rebellion.

This woman was as close to being on a pedestal as Stella allowed in her mind. She doesn’t believe in idolizing women. Idolizing creates its own challenges for both those elevated and those elevating. Worship perpetuates inequality.

Instead, she liked to picture what it felt like to wrap herself around Reed on her bike, their helmets awkwardly knocking together on the curves of the road.

She hears the engine in her head, the dull roar of Reed’s bike between her thighs, the hot thrum of it carrying them along. She can see Reed’s hair whipping back in the slipstream and tastes exhaust on the wind.

It wasn’t long from that night, the rejection that really wasn’t rejection at the hotel, before Reed showed up at her door late one night with a bottle of dark wine in her hand and a determined look on her face. She knew when she opened the door that there was no turning back.

“Tanya,” Stella began, and then she faltered. Unusual.

“You’re always talking,” Reed said. “Always analyzing things. This is me. Just me.”

And she walked into the room.

-

That first night together had been organic. Reed had drawn the shades and walked back to her, pulling the wine glass away from Stella’s fingers and putting it on the table next to them. Her hand lingered on the wood, then slid over Stella’s hand and grasped it. Reed’s other hand reached for Stella’s ear and lightly stroked her hair, the thin, delicate strands slipping through her fingers. This touch lit a fire in Stella, deep inside, like she’d just sipped brandy tinged with adrenaline.

Their lips hesitated over each other, their quiet breath and inquisitive eyes of investigators looking for the truth in their questions. Soft kisses, full kisses, then the touch of cherry wine-coated tongues, because Reed is a fan of giving her heavy-lidded challenges over sweet drinks. 

The way the heavy cherry taste tangled with the subtle tartness Stella found when Reed finally, with a smile and a soft laugh, parted her thighs against the soft cotton sheets was a divine combination brought into existence only by the two of them entwined. As Stella suspected, Reed’s taste was more subtle the deeper her tongue went until Stella found an essence that she’d tasted in her own body.

They were all tongues and fingers that night, rounded flesh and sharp angles in the darkness. And Reed was soft when she came, no matter how hard Stella tried to make her relinquish the collective sounds trapped inside her. She expressed quiet pleasure, restrained release, fingers tangled in her blond hair and pulling so hard she lost a few strands.

And Stella was, herself, restrained, cautious, holding back. For now.

-

The next morning, waking up to sunlight filtering through the curtains, she rethinks her urge to slide out of bed and pay more attention to her tea than her lover. Instead, she slides her hand over Reed’s bare hip and presses her breasts against this solid back, warm, and lay her head beside the soft layer of onyx hair spread across the pillow. She moves it aside with her nose, breathing in a scent of mixed sex and orchid as her lips softly land on the back of Reed’s shoulder, the only skin above the sheet.

She slides herself over Reed’s back, her breasts brushing her shoulder blades, and hovers over the small of her back, knees to either side of her hips. She collects Reed’s hair in her hands and smoothes it out, dividing it into three large sections.

“What are you doing?” With a soft laugh Reed turns her face so she can see Stella in her peripheral vision.

“Your hair.” Stella begins to slowly braid the sections, her tongue flicking over her upper lip as she concentrates. Reed settles her cheek into the pillow, closing her eyes with a deep breath.

She feels the flesh of her labia graze Reed’s tense lower back and she indulges in the tickle of it, her hips instinctively rolling with the sensation. Arousal, this telltale tingle, begins to build in this tiny space between them. This slow braiding, with some interruption as Reed lifts her hips an inch off the bed to press closer to the heat on her back and they both let small moans out, punctuated by laughs.

“Stop it, if I’m ever going to get this done,” Stella says, following the slimming sections of hair to their soft ends. She swiftly pulls the elastic band off her wrist and loops it three times around the end of Reed’s thick braid. Satisfied with her work, she places her hands on either side of Reed’s torso and caresses the thin bones she feels under her skin, fingertips brushing the sides of her breasts, pressed into the sheet.

“Mmm,” Reed murmurs. Stella presses her heat down against her back in response, her hands roaming across the smooth skin of Reed’s shoulders. She grips them and rubs herself as hard as she can down against Reed’s body, grinding until she feels the spark of connection between her clit and her back muscles. Stella releases a soft gasp.

“What are your plans?” These soft words come from the pillow, flattened by last night’s fury.

Stella slides her body to Reed’s side, their bare skin sticking. She runs her hand down Reed’s braid, down her spine, lightly down the center of her bottom, and nestles it against the heat between her thighs. Reed’s head flops over so she’s facing her, an enlightened smile playing across her lips. 

“I have plans,” Stella says. Her fingertips trace Reed’s outer labia, neatly trimmed, in lazy circles before dipping only a centimeter deeper to find soft, hot, slightly wet folds within. “I have many plans.”

“I’m intrigued.” Reed’s lips part with a tiny moan while Stella strokes her inner lips, from top to bottom, bottom to top. Stella leans over and presses her mouth against Reed’s bare shoulder, her finger swirling further into the wetness she’s found until it settles gently inside of this beautiful woman, only to the first knuckle. Reed’s hips lift, her ass grazing Stella’s inner wrist, and Stella takes this cue to end her tease and slide her finger all the way in.

Their movements are lethargic, Stella exploring her depths and feeling Reed’s body shudder when a sensitive spot is grazed; there’s an anticipatory pulse in the air, a threat of frenzy if they allow it. 

“You’re so wet.” Stella’s teeth graze Reed’s shoulder, nibble on her neck.

“Are you?” Reed slides her hand over from its resting place at her hip and seeks out evidence of the causation of Stella’s flushed skin, her heated cheekbones. Stella slides her leg over Reed’s, giving her just enough access to the crevice she already feels is dripping, throbbing, heated. Reed smiles when she touches Stella’s slick center.

“Aha.” Reed’s slim finger skillfully seeks out Stella’s clit and presses down on it until Stella twitches, her hips pressing forward. A few circles around it and then Reed’s inside of her, passing through her slick center to rub against her vaginal wall. “Theory becomes fact.”

Stella closes her eyes and slowly fingers Reed, then pulls her single finger out to add one more. Slow and cautious, she sets her fingers deeply, feeling Reed loosen as her breath leaves her. Their scents combine under her nose, sex and last night’s wine and dried sweat on the sheets. Her arm lodged against Reed’s ass, she begins to finger fuck her in earnest, whirling inside of her, feeling soft flesh and ridged spaces.

The movement of Reed’s finger in her body is less intense, as she is notably distracted, and this makes Stella swell with the sweet intoxication of control. Reed’s tiny hips are circling, beckoning her deeper, and Stella knows that her partner’s clitoris must be pulsing just as desperately as her own.

She puts her mouth next to Reed’s ear. “I want to eat you, and then I want to fuck you.”

Reed can’t suppress her sharp breath in, her only audible response as Stella withdraws her fingers and pushes on her hip. Reed lazily turns on her back, her heels sliding on the sheets as she spreads her legs. When Stella meets her eyes, she laughs and bites her lower lip.

“Is something wrong?” Stella takes in this ethereal view of Reed’s body, sinewy limbs on a mess of sheets, her eyes alighted. Her breasts each loll toward a side, her hardened, dark nipples more evidence of her state.

“No. Very right, in fact.” Reed’s fingers trace circles in the hollow of her belly, run along the line of her pubic hair. “Your gaze is intense. I’m not used to it yet.”

“I don’t want you to get used to it.” Stella watches as Reed’s hand hesitates, then slides between her parted legs. Reed separates her swollen labia with two fingers and Stella’s heart begins pounding in her chest, so hard she could probably see the palpations of her own chest if she looked. But her eyes were trained elsewhere, toward the gesture of the woman breathing hard before her. 

“Come on, then,” Reed breathes.

Stella feels her pussy beating with pleasure as she lowers herself between Reed’s thighs, kicking her calves up to lock her ankles in the air. She steadies herself, examining this sweet, glistening offering, until she can’t resist it any more. She presses her thumbs into Reed’s hips and her mouth into her flesh, open, a long lap of her tongue testing out the waters. Stella finds her sour and quite strong after a short night’s sleep. The more she bathes Reed with her tongue, the more her taste turns deep and sweet as her arousal flows electric against Stella’s lips. Reed, not terribly vocal the night prior, begins undulating her hips with soft moans in response to this firm encouragement. Her hands pull at the flat sheet below her body, bunching fabric into fists.

Stella hums against her flesh, catching her clitoris between her lips and sucking it into her mouth, the tip of her tongue gesturing against it. Reed startles with a soft cry and Stella removes her mouth. “You don’t have to be so quiet.”

“Maybe I’m not very loud.” 

“Fair enough.” Stella traces details along Reed’s flesh with that tip of her tongue now, flicking and teasing. Reed’s tiny moans become urgent and one hand slithers down into Stella’s mess of bed-headed blond hair, pulling her face closer. Stella finds her clitoris again and begins to suckle it while she slides two mildly shaking fingers slowly inside Reed again. Her body is tremoring with the promise of sex. But she has tempered herself to wait for her eventual pleasure.

The soft sound Reed makes, then the sudden, more urgent “oh” when Stella simply won’t let go of her clit, tonguing it roughly, only inspires Stella to curl her fingers deep inside Reed, slow strokes, slight movements, until she feels Reed tighten around them. Reed’s hips thrust steadily against her mouth, her sounds changing to reflect her edging.

“It’s so much... yeah,” Reed says through gritted teeth, both a protest and a plea. Her thighs pull up and her feet slide against Stella’s back, the rough heels of a normally finished woman. Stella looks up and their eyes meet, prompting her to hold Reed’s hips down with her palms and commence intense stroking of her rough tongue upon Reed’s most sensitive spot. Her wetness was spread across Stella’s chin, dripping, driving her mad.

The sound of a woman coming is one of Stella’s favorite sounds on Earth, whether it’s a slow build or a fast clap of pleasure with a scream to the heavens. This orgasm she’s drawing from Reed is accompanied by a series of soft whimpers, volume increasing as her desperation shows through. There is a trigger moment of no return, and Stella feels it in the fingernails clutching at her scalp, in the twist of hips, but she knows better than to relent or lose her place. It’s tricky, sometimes, holding them down. 

Reed orgasms, aloud and alive, thrashing on the sheets as elegantly as Stella would expect. She isn’t intentionally making a production, no. This is an organic release of neurochemicals that Reed could probably rattle off in an instant if Stella’s tongue wasn’t still firmly planted against her.

“Fuck,” is Reed’s soft punctuation, the signal for Stella to pull away and gather all of Reed’s come on her tongue to swallow her, consume her. 

“I have a confession.” Stella releases her iron grip on Reed’s hips and strokes her softly, resting her cheek against her inner thigh. “I’ve brought something along.”

Reed, eyes closed, lifts her eyebrows. “Something?”

Stella’s ankles, still locked, sway above her bare legs and ass. “A while ago now, I purchased something at a sex store and I have to admit…” She pauses, thoughtful. “I had you in mind.”

Reed’s eyes open slowly, as slowly as one side of her lips curls upward. “Was this planned.”

“It was more of a fantasy. But now we’re here.” Reed shifts up onto her elbows and examines Stella, curious, questioning. “And all I can think about is sharing it with you.”

Reed pulls her beautiful braid over her shoulder and runs the end of it over her lips. “By all means. Show me.”

Stella slides off the foot of the bed, standing upright with a lengthy stretch of her arms over her head. She rolls her head on her neck and feels another rush of warmth at Reed’s observation of her show. Then she goes to her luggage and digs under her clothing, finding her double dildo. It’s a hardy toy, a reasonable length and girth in a flesh tone, not a giant wildly colored cock like many of them are for some absurd reason. The bigger the cock the better the sex is not always the truth. 

The insert was a reasonably sized plug shape, small enough to fit inside her but large enough not to fall out as long as she kept herself tight.

She’d run a trial, walking around her hotel room with it set in, the bulge of her panties an exquisite turn on. She’d stroked herself, laid on the bed naked, and actually brought herself to orgasm with a bullet vibe while it was still inside her and watched in pleasured awe how the motion of her hips made the semi-hard silicone move with her.

She feels no reluctance as she walks back to the bed with it in her hands and a small bottle of lube, catching Reed’s widened, though interested, eyes.

“Oh my,” Reed says, her lips remaining parted. She’d been touching herself while Stella was gone and the smooth, gentle motion of her hand stops as she studies the introduction.

Stella climbs onto the bed on her knees, spreading her legs and covering the dildo with lube on both ends, the gesture making her weak in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She begins to set the insert end into her body. She notices the bed shifting when Reed gets close to her and grabs her hand between her legs.

“Let me,” Reed says. Her kiss catches Stella off guard because it’s hard, demanding, the tip of her tongue running along Stella’s upper lip. One hand in her hair, the other between her legs, Reed slowly works the insert inside Stella and the pressure of entry makes both of them moan against each others’ mouths. A sudden slip and it’s fully within her and Stella clenches her muscles around it while Reed kisses her, that helping hand now stroking the phallus between them.

“Fuck,” Stella mutters between kisses. She can feel the motion of Reed’s hand as it shifts the insert inside her. And she is driven at that moment, tired of sharing the taste of come on her tongue. “Oh, hell.”

Reed breaks the kiss, then with a smile and without a word, turns over on her hands and knees. She stretches out, her body in a downward dog position, and Stella is breathless at the beauty once again displayed before her for the pleasing. 

“Come on.” Reed’s voice is more demanding than she expects. 

Stella positions herself behind her and holds the base of the cock tenderly, the silicone smooth and cool against her hand. Her fingers find Reed’s entrance and stroke it, stroke it, stroke it with her fingers until Reed releases a whimper that crowns her the queen of this bedroom, the queen of this world.

She pushes the cock in, just an inch, and hears Reed’s breath catch in her throat. She gives her body time to adjust, then slips in deeper, achingly slow until she is fully settled. Her body is on fire, fire coursing through her veins and spreading across her chest, stoked deeply between her legs in the place where they’re joined.

Stella has had men fuck her but has never fucked like a man.

She draws back and thrusts in and Reed rises up on her hands, tossing her head back with a noise that’s beyond anything Stella’s heard, followed by, “Oh, god.”

“Good?” Stella says, thrusting into her again, still gentle as she can still feel the remaining pressure of tension around the toy. She cups Reed’s hips and holds her close, trying to come up with a rhythm. She finds the accomplishment of this strangely difficult and wonders about the physiology of the male body compared to a female, their different centers of gravity and the ability to create this fluid motion, over and over. The angle is hard to accomplish and she’s...

“Keep going?” Reed says, soft. Stella realizes she was lost in her thoughts and begins to push into her in earnest, in and out, her hips rocking against Reed’s in unison and the insert grinding against her, inside her. It’s thick, it’s good, it finds a spot to bump against with every thrust that makes her moan and tingle, which in response makes this beautiful woman she is fucking moan back, a conversation between lovers.

This feeling of ownership is an odd one, part empowering and part disconcerting. After a few smooth movements inside of Reed she grabs the braid of hair resting on her shoulder, pulling it back, wrapping her fingers around it. Then, she thrusts hard, pulling the hair tightly--maybe a little painful, the hand on Reed’s hip slipping below her to messily find her clitoris.

“Fuck.” She can tell Reed’s teeth are clenched but instead of an objection, this seems to be an election to continue. Reed’s hips slam back against her and she cries out, so Stella continues fucking her, and it’s a true fucking now, vigorous and intentional, her head drunk with power and the urge for herself to come, to make this woman come again. She licks her lips, feels her breasts jiggling as she pounds Reed harder, feels the miniscule hardness of Reed’s clit against the pads of her fingers and grinds it as hard as she can, shifting and wet.

“Stella,” Reed gasps, “Stella, I can’t… fuck… “

“Come,” Stella says on a breath, her thighs tightening to keep balance. She pulls on Reed’s clitoris with her thumb and pointer finger, pulls and releases, and tosses her head back with a cry when she thrusts so hard she nearly falls backward. There is an indulgent sound Reed makes as her body shudders under Stella, as her back arches and her head drops between her shoulders and Stella releases the braid to let Reed ride out her orgasm, holding her tightly.

Then it’s just the sound of them, breathing and shifting, the sound of the heating kicking on in the corner, the faraway slam of a hallway door.

Stella gently pulls away and removes the share from her body, lying down next to the softly panting woman now lying flat on the bed, so still.

Stella kisses her forehead, her ear. Her hand snakes around Reed’s waist and she snuggles closer. Reed’s eyelids flutter and she sighs with a smile. 

“All right?” Stella asks.

“Mmmm.” There is a sheen of sweat on both of their bodies. Stella tastes it on Reed’s arm, kisses Reed’s full lips. Reed responds slowly, but then insistently, her hand sliding around Stella and gripping her bottom with a firm hand.

“No men, no refractory period,” Reed says against her lips. She rolls over Stella, pushing her onto her back. “Give me that.”

Stella is clutching the dildo and realizes what she means. She passes it to Reed, who takes it and rises on her knees beside her. Reed looks her in the eyes and then licks the insert that had been inside Stella with a broad sweep of her tongue. Stella’s clitoris twitches in response, and her arousal surges when Reed takes the entire thing in her mouth, her cheeks hollowed as she sucks it off. It pops out of her mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” Stella whispers.

Reed spreads her legs and positions the share between her thighs, slowly working the insert inside. She laughs, looking down at Stella with an eyeroll. “This is hard, eh?”

Stella reaches down to run her fingernails up the underside of the cock. Her desire is now at a non-quantifiable level. “You’ll get the hang of it.” The noise Reed makes when it pops into place makes her want to kiss her, but her mouth is a stretch away. 

Reed parts Stella’s thighs and leans over, looking up through a few tendrils of hair that have fallen loose of her braid. She positions herself at Stella’s entrance, holding the toy steady as it grazes her inner labia. Stella doesn’t look away, even as she feels the cock start to enter her and stretch her, delightfully and finally giving her the full feeling she’s been longing for.

“Okay?” Reed puts one hand next to Stella’s shoulder, then the other on the opposite side. Her breasts dangle down and brush against Stella’s and Stella’s hands immediately go to them, cupping their weight and teasing the nipples until peaked. She nods, and Reed slips out and immediately back in. Stella’s mouth flies open and her eyes close as the feeling surges through her, the feeling of being fucked by the feminine claiming the masculine. She draws up her knees and sets her legs over Reed’s shoulders, desperate to orgasm and knowing how she can.

“Is that it,” Reed says, rolling her hips into Stella.

“That’s it,” Stella breathes, synching up the motion of her lower body to her lover. “Come on. Tanya, you’re not going to break me.”

“No one can break you.” Reed kisses the inside of her knee. This dark cloud shifts away quickly, as quickly as Reed’s thrusts speed up. Reed is better, definitely better at this than she is, getting into a rhythm quickly and unpredictably changing up quick thrusts with long strokes. When she touches Stella’s clitoris Stella nearly jumps out of her skin, the surge of energy surprisingly strong. Reed’s circling thumb, the artful precision of a pathologist, over her hardened clit makes her moan and twist her hips. Deeper, harder, push.

Reed takes the cue and begins to roughly rub Stella’s clitoris while stroking her from the inside out with the cock that Stella regards as her most valuable recent investment in years. Stella’s heels dig into Reed’s shoulder blades as she arches her body up, her ass off the bed, a 45-degree angle that Reed takes advantage of with deep, intentional thrusts. Stella bucks up against her, alternately angry and hungry, so hungry. She feels herself starting to come and makes noises to indicate such, noises to tell Reed not to stop, to continue doing exactly what she’s doing or else. Reed attentively listens and does not stop, licking her lips, her eyes ablaze.

Stella closes her eyes, hears herself calling Reed by her first name as she begins the fall, the exquisite fall of orgasm sending a wave of sensation from her abdomen to her forehead. 

“Fuck.” That was Reed, at least she thinks, with her eyes screwed shut and her body singing praise. She lets go, unusual for her, loud cries with the last few poundings Reed gives her.

And then it’s done; over, for now. “Shit,” Stella says, her legs collapsing off Reed’s shoulders and cool air hitting her hottest spot as they fall apart.

“I’ll say.” Stella, eyes closed as Reed shifts on the bed, as she hears the toy tossed to the floor. Eyes closed as Reed settles her body’s weight onto her own, pressing her into the mattress, and kisses her full on the mouth. A slow kiss, a precise and thankful one at that. Stella reaches behind Reed’s head and pulls away the elastic holding her braid together. She slips the band back on her wrist as Reed presses her cheek into her clavicle. 

She is open. They’re both open. For now.


End file.
